Wake up.

The medicine for not being deceived by ourselves and others.

Recently, I was speaking with a student about their zazen practice, and they described a feeling many of us encounter at some point. Their sitting felt flat, almost lifeless. There was no sense of relief or inspiration, no feeling of something opening up. They wondered how to skillfully relate to those periods when practice feels stale.

I understood the question deeply because I have experienced this myself. We sit down and, like so many things in our lives, we start evaluating. ‘Is this working? Am I getting somewhere? Am I doing this right?’ We bring our ordinary habits of judgment and comparison right into our practice.

Yet the question I keep returning to is much simpler, ‘Am I awake?’

One of our Soto Zen ancestors would walk around asking himself, “Are you awake?” And he would answer yes, and he would say, “Do not be deceived by yourself or others.” The response from himself was, “I won’t.”

I find this teaching both beautiful and challenging because, for myself, I am usually not so concerned about being deceived by others. I am much more likely to be deceived by my own mind. My own stories, my own preferences, my own ideas about how things should be.

Not being entertained is a place of practice

When our zazen feels dull or our lives feel uninspiring, it is easy to slip into the question, ‘What is this doing for me?’ It is a very human question. We want to know whether our effort is producing something. We want evidence that we are changing.

But this can also be the place where we get caught. The practice is not here to entertain us or to constantly provide some special experience. It is not about chasing after a feeling of inspiration. It is about discovering the extraordinary nature of what is already here.

The breath.

The body sitting.

The sounds around us.

The fact that we are alive in this moment.

Zazen is so dynamic because we are practicing returning, again and again. Away and come back. Away and back. We are practicing being nowhere else.

Sometimes we are bored. Sometimes we are distracted. Sometimes we are fantasizing, planning, remembering, or getting lost in our own thoughts. The question is not whether these things happen. They will happen. The question is: Are we awake enough to notice and come back?

---

---

Another student recently brought up the tension between ambition and aspiration, between slowing down and rushing forward, between grasping and vow. How do we know the difference? How do we navigate these seemingly opposing forces?

I loved this question because it touches something essential about practice. We often want to resolve tension. We want to pick one side and reject the other. But the tension itself is where life is happening.

Our great aspirations can have shadows. We can become so focused on accomplishing something meaningful that we stop noticing the people right in front of us. We can become so committed to our ideas of goodness that we lose our ability to listen.

At the same time, slowing down can become avoidance. Seeking peace can become a way of turning away from what is difficult.

The practice is not about eliminating these contradictions. It is about learning to stay intimate with them.

I often think about the image of a tightrope walker. The beauty is not in standing perfectly still. The aliveness comes from the constant adjustment, the sensitivity, the ability to respond moment by moment.

That is the place of practice.

Someone recently asked about making daily decisions from a dharmic perspective. How do we know what choices support our practice? How do we know what relationships, actions, and commitments are actually nourishing?

I return to the same question, ‘Am I awake?’

Am I making this choice from clarity, or am I being pulled by old habits? Am I paying attention to what my body, my relationships, and the world are showing me?

The precepts are not just rules we follow. They are a way of becoming more clear and receptive. They invite us to look honestly at our lives and ask: ‘What am I creating? What am I supporting? What am I feeding?’

Practice is not separate from our daily lives. It is revealed in the way we speak, the way we listen, the way we show up.

---

Let’s practice together

Today, notice how quickly the mind wants to evaluate every experience. ‘This was a good day. This was a bad meditation. I am doing well. I am failing.’

Instead of following that story, try asking, Am I awake right now?

Feel your body. Notice your breath. Receive the sounds around you. Allow this moment to be exactly what it is.

Not something to fix.

Not something to improve.

Just this.

The only moment we actually have.

---

Let’s have a dialogue

I’m curious.

Where do you notice yourself being deceived by your own mind? By others? What helps you return to wakefulness when your practice life feels stale?

Please share your experiences in the comments below. Your words may be exactly what someone else needs to hear.

May we continue waking up, together.

Koshin

P.S. Waking up together with these offerings

Commit To Sit Summer 2026 ~ For new and advanced participants alike, Commit to Sit is a guided 90-day practice period designed to support your Zen meditation journey through structured community, daily teachings, and contemplative exploration.

Wholehearted Sesshin ~ This summer silent retreat runs from August 2nd - 9th at the Garrison Institute. Seven days of Noble Silence, sitting and walking meditation, dharma talks, and dokusan.

An Introduction to Zen Meditation ~ A 3+ hour video course on the fundamentals of practice: how to pause, see clearly, and complete each thing with your whole heart.

Untangled and Wholehearted ~ Books I’ve written reflecting on how the Four Noble Truths and Buddhist precepts inform our everyday lives and relationships.